


Rain on my Parade

by MsPeppernose



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, unconventional flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7438141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s only one other person at the bus stop; and it’s a guy in a hoody listening to music so loudly that it’s leaking through the headphones. It’s Bowie, so at least there’s that.</p>
<p>The quiet, tinny sound of Changes is lost when a car drives past at top speed, the wheels driving right into the considerable puddle at the side of the road. It sends a huge spray of rain water high into the air and all over Patrick.</p>
<p>Patrick’s soaking wet. Completely. And he’s torn between screaming obscenities at the inconsiderate asshole driver, and punching the guy in the hoody, because is he seriously laughing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain on my Parade

**Author's Note:**

> It rains a lot where I'm from so this is inspired by the constant showers.
> 
> Thanks to TearCatcher for beta.

Patrick pulls the collar of his jacket up and curses the world once again.

He’s standing under the bus shelter trying to avoid a very heavy rain shower. It’s been raining for long enough that the ground is soaked and there’s drops of water coming through holes in the ceiling of the shelter. The rain started on Patrick’s way to the bus stop, so his jacket and the ends of his jeans are already wet. Of course he didn’t check the weather forecast before he left his house, and of course all he has against the rain is a denim jacket and a fedora.

There’s only one other person at the bus stop; and it’s a guy in a hoody listening to music so loudly that it’s leaking through the headphones. It’s Bowie, so at least there’s that.

The quiet, tinny sound of _Changes_ is lost when a car drives past at top speed, the wheels driving right into the considerable puddle at the side of the road. It sends a huge spray of rain water high into the air and all over Patrick.

Patrick’s soaking wet. Completely. And he’s torn between screaming obscenities at the inconsiderate asshole driver, and punching the guy in the hoody, because is he seriously laughing?

“Dude, really? Are you that bored that you have to laugh at me?” Patrick spits.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” the guy says. “But, dude, you’re like, _soaked_!”

“No shit. I noticed that.”

Patrick tries to brush the water off his jeans and his jacket, but it’s pointless. He really is soaked. He’s furious, and it’s worse because the guy still has a stupid grin on his face.

Patrick is absolutely aware of how childish he is, but he takes two steps towards this guy with his huge teeth and gorgeous brown eyes - and Patrick does admittedly notice how gorgeous his eyes are a little belatedly - and kicks his foot into a puddle, splashing a decent amount of water over this grinning buffoon.

The guy’s face goes from grinning to shocked as he’s sprayed with water. He too tries to wipe some of the water off of himself, just like Patrick did, but it obviously doesn’t work.

Instead of Patrick feeling bad that he’s just ruined this guy’s day, or perhaps fearing for his life - because for all he knows he’s just kicked rain water at a serial killer - he says, “Not so funny now, is it?”

This guy in the hoody is clearly a little on the crazy side, because he mutters darkly, “Oh, it’s on.” He takes a step towards Patrick and kicks his foot into the same puddle Patrick did, soaking him again.

Patrick doesn’t even bother to try to dry himself off his time, and while the guy is taking off his hoody to try to salvage it, or maybe try not die from a cold wearing wet clothes, Patrick jumps with both feet into the puddle again.

This time, because the guy is now only in his tshirt, he gets soaked through from the spray, the water making his thin shirt stick to his body, which is...actually amazing. Patrick shouldn’t be checking this guy out, because he’s mad. And something else. But mostly mad.

The guy is about to take another step forwards, probably about the jump right into the puddle or maybe attack Patrick with his soaking wet hoody when the bus that they’ve both been waiting for sails right by, driving into that roadside puddle again.

They’re both completely drenched this time. Patrick can feel rainwater trickling down his chest. And he’s the one that laughs this time when he takes in how ridiculous they both look.

“It’s funny now, huh?” the guy says. And he does sound kind of amused, but he’s got a dangerous look in his eyes when they lock with Patrick’s.

“Hilarious,” Patrick says, and though he sounds deadpan, he’s finally seeing the funny side. What started off as bad luck has turned into something so much better despite the fact that he’s soaked.. He looks down at himself, his wet, open denim jacket, his ruined jeans, the wet shirt that’s sticking to his chest and belly. “Who knew I’d be entering a wet tshirt contest today?”

The guy doesn’t laugh. But he moves closer to Patrick. Patrick thinks he’s about to get splashed again, and instead this guy walks past the puddle and right up into Patrick’s space. Before Patrick knows what’s happening the guy is kissing him and _hello_ to Patrick’s best afternoon ever.

It’s certainly a surprise to Patrick, and he takes a step backwards but the guy goes with him until Patrick is backed up against the wall of the bus shelter. This guy kisses like an angel, his mouth hot and gloriously soft, a stark comparison to the cold rainwater. It feels like the guy is a weather shield - his body solid and comforting against the elements as he presses in against Patrick. He puts his hand on Patrick’s chest and Patrick decides that he should follow suit and fit his hands to the guy’s hips.

It’s broad daylight and the kiss is heading towards kind of heated, so maybe it’s fate that a second bus sails by the bus stop, again driving through the puddle and soaking them both. It ends the kiss - maybe that’s nature's way of saying they need a cold shower.

The guy laughs sweetly, shyly into Patrick’s neck and Patrick cracks up too, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

“So I’m probably not going to get my bus,” the guy says, his voice low and a million miles away from the brash idiot he appeared to be when he first laughed at Patrick. “I live near here. I might go home and get some dry clothes.” He locks eyes with Patrick, and up close those eyes are deep chocolate brown and even more gorgeous that Patrick first thought. “You can come back with me if you like? I can help you dry off?”

Patrick laughs again, because that’s a come-on if ever he’s heard one. But seeing as his afternoon has gone so different to the way he’d thought, he says, “Yes,” and the guy takes his hand.

“Excellent. I’m Pete by the way.”

“Patrick.”

“Patrick, I think you and I are going to get along very well indeed.”

Patrick nods in agreement and lets himself be led by the hand out into the rain, and he couldn’t care less about how wet he is.


End file.
